


Kindled Fires

by taichara



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:03:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10035404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: Seliph doubts himself, and his actions, more than the cause.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _prompt:_ "watching fireflies on a summer evening"

The world was awash in colours. 

The sky in the colours of flame, the horizon burning, before shading slowly-so-slowly into a midnight blue more deep than his own hair. 

The carefully trimmed lawns he paced across, the hedges he parted, still tinted in leaf-green and jade-green and so many other greens despite the creeping dimness. 

The looming pale bulk of Askr's citadel, piercing the skies behind him as he slowly picked his way across the castle grounds.

It was so peaceful.

But it could not last. 

Seliph knew this as surely as he knew every last length of Tyrfing's blade, every nick and contour of its hilt. He was, after all, drawn to this foreign kingdom -- kind and gentle though its Blooded may be -- to fight their enemies, and to beat that darkness back. 

To free so many others from an enchantment on their souls as all-devouring, in its own way, as the black beast that devoured the brother he never knew.

Sighing, he turned on one heel to pace slowly along a hedgerow, one hand trailing across the carefully-trimmed briars as he trailed through longer grasses. A whirling cloud of ghostlight swept up in his wake and fluttered around him, brought him up short; scores of tiny motes, gold-green and golden.

Fireflies. 

Seliph stopped still to watch them dance, letting his roiling thoughts drift with the tiny motes. He did not want to think about his purpose in Askr; did not want to confront the raw bitterness of fear that crawled up his throat at the prospect of once again facing the pitiless jaws of war.

If it could be called a war ...

Those they unchained with their own blood were grateful; they expressed regret, even while they surged across the battlefield.

Had Julius ever thought the same, locked inside his own mind?

Seliph stared off towards the darkening horizon, watching in silence, as the world's colours slowly leached away save for those fitful flutterings of light.

_... May the gods grant that I've chosen the right path._


End file.
